


Wifely Duties

by NaughtySammyBoy



Series: A Hunter's Wife [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bits of fluff and humor, Cunnilingus, Cute and maybe vomit-inducing pet names, F/M, Honeymoon sex is here y'all, Sam gets all caring and tentative at the end, Sam wants to make love, Some parts make me sick from the sweetness, little bit of dirty talk, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5056828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtySammyBoy/pseuds/NaughtySammyBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Sam go on your honeymoon and, of course, get all kinds of frisky in the mountains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wifely Duties

**Author's Note:**

> I liked this whole story line so much that this whole thing happened. Enjoy!

You smile despite the fact that you’re shivering like crazy, the air around you frosty and cold with winter weather. You'd successfully talked Sam into going somewhere freezing and snowy for your honeymoon—hidden away somewhere in the Colorado Mountains in a tiny but finely furnished cabin that had recently been redone by the resort that owned it. You'd got a heck of deal on it since you booked it months in advance, something Dean had suggested since winter vacation spots went fast.

 

"It's beautiful up here," you comment, the evidence of your breathing visible in the air in white puffs. "Quiet and isolated—just the way I _like_ it," you smirk over at Sam who's pulling your bags out of the trunk of the Jeep you had rented to get up the rocky mountain pathway, earning you a chuckle in response. His cheeks and nose are pinked from being exposed to the cold, making you smile even wider.

 

"You're gonna ravage me on this trip, aren't you?" Sam asks, quirking an eyebrow and grabbing your gloved hand after he's thrown the straps of your duffels over his shoulder.

 

"Well _duh_ ," you retort playfully, rolling your eyes just for show. "It's our honeymoon, Sam. I plan on having my way with you as _much_ as possible, and in any _way_ possible for the next seven days."

 

"Well, since you put it _that_ way," Sam quips, "And if you _must_ —“

 

"Shut up," you laugh, gently pushing him away from you and unlocking the cabin door. "As if you _actually_ have a problem with that."

 

"No, not at all, _wife_ ," Sam shoots back, playfully slapping your ass and pushing the door open once you have successfully turned the key in the lock.

 

The inside of the cabin is warm and inviting, the decor all beiges and burgundies that set the perfect mood for the occasion. There's a large cobblestone fireplace in the living room that's just begging to be put to good use, which it no doubt will be consider the fantasy currently making its way through your mind. "I know what you're thinking," Sam whispers in your ear, making you jump because you hadn't noticed him come up behind you. 

 

"Pray do tell, since you seem to be able to read my mind," you say with a smirk, shuddering just a bit when his hands reach around the front of you to unzip the thick jacket you're donning. 

 

"You want me to strip you down," Sam breaths into your ear, dragging the jacket down your arms and letting it fall to the ground between your bodies. "Then start up a fire and _fuck you_ right in front of it."

 

"Hmm, that sounds good," you hum, shrugging as you tear yourself away from him to add, " _But_ I was actually thinking about roasting some marshmallows and making s'mores."

 

Sam's face is the picture of pure bewilderment before his eyes narrow and his lips turn up into a wolfish grin. " _Liar_ ," he teases, shredding his own jacket and pulling off the black knit cap he has on his head used to shield his ears from the chill outside.

 

You simply cock your head and give him an innocent smile, one he sees right through from plenty of experience. "Let's take a look around the rest of this place and then maybe," you playfully poke his chest and tell him, "Just _maybe_ , I'll give you your wedding gift."

 

"Oh, a _gift_ you say?" He asks, placing his hands on your hips and giving you his best seductive gaze. "Do I get to _unwrap_ it?"

 

"Maybe," you answer in a low tone, carding your fingers through his hair and nibbling at your bottom lip.

 

"Then do I get to _play_ with it?" His smirk is something devilish when he asks that one.

 

"Per _haps_." 

 

"Am I allowed to--" he pauses to press his lips into yours briefly before finishing with, " _kiss_ it?"

 

"If you ask nicely," you breathe against his lips, "Then I'm sure that's allowed."

 

"Then I can't _wait_." Sam's eyes sparkle with nothing but desire and mischief, his lips turned up into a gorgeous smile that makes you nearly melt into a puddle of yourself right there on the floor. He intertwines his fingers with yours and guides you through the rest of the cabin, the both of you commenting about how perfect it was and admiring its appeal until you finally make it the bedroom.

 

"There's a fireplace in _here_ too?!" You observe gleefully, clapping your hands and smiling brightly. "Ugh, and it’s right across from the bed. I knew this place was gonna be _awesome_!"

 

Sam chuckles at your enjoyment and drops your duffels to the floor with a heavy thud, kicking off his boots and plopping down to sit at the foot of the large bed. "Why don't I start 'er up and you get my _gift_ ready?" Sam suggest with a short waggle of his eyebrows, laying back on the mattress and placing his hands up under his head in a relaxed manner. You simply smirk and pick up your duffle, disappearing into the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

 

"Fuck _yes_ ," you whisper excitedly to yourself you see the deep claw foot tub and the rainfall shower, all marble and gold trimmings. _Can we just stay here forever?_  

 

You place your bag on the large counter by the sink and unzip it, pulling out all of the things you would need to get ready for Sam. You plug up the curling iron you'd brought along before quickly stripping down to nothing but a seductive smirk. You grab a plush washcloth from the closet close to you and drench it in warm water, doing a good once over of your body to clean off the muck of travel. 

 

You can't help but feel giddy as you pull a black garter belt up around your waist, followed by a pair of black thigh-high stockings. You secure the fasteners of the belt to the lace trim of the stocking that are hugging your soft thighs, humming in approval when it's done. You hold up the pair of black silk satin panties you'd picked out a few weeks ago, smiling like a fool because you knew Sam was going to lose his shit when he felt how nice they were. You pulled them up your legs and looked at your ass in the mirror, giving yourself a little shimmy to see how it looked. You make quick work of the bra that went along with your ensemble, positioning your breasts in the sheer cups and making sure they looked picture perfect. The last piece to your ensemble is a pair of black stilettos, classy and sleek and sexy—although, the sex you're about to have probably won't be anywhere near the ball field of _classy_.

 

When you're fully satisfied with your outfit, you start on your hair, letting it fall from its ponytail and curling it enough that it looked well enough to your liking. Your makeup doesn't consist of much since you're probably just going to sweat off anyway, just a generous enough of mascara, a small catlike wing of eyeliner on your top lid, and a little bit of blush to your already pink cheeks just to enhance your face. You dab a light amount of perfume between your breasts, behind your ears, and down the sides of your neck. Once you've checked to make sure everything looked absolutely _perfect_ , you walk to the door and open it just enough so Sam can hear you ask, "Are you ready for me, _husband_?"

 

"Yeah, let me see you, baby," he replies with a tone so deep and sexy that your knees nearly buckle on principle. 

 

You pull the door all the way open and stand in the door way, your hands resting in the frame of it and one of your hips popped up so your lower body is tilted in a suggestive way. Sam's sat at the foot of the bed once again, just his jeans and an unbutton shirt gracing his scrumptious body. His expression is priceless—a dumbfounded look with widened eyes and a slack jaw so his lips are parted just enough that his tongue can freely roam over the bottom one. 

 

"Well," you quirk an eyebrow and smirk seductively, "do you like your _gift_?" Sam's reply is a slow nod _yes_ and a bite of his rosy lower lip, his eyes sliding up and down your scantily clad figure with hot hunger. "Would you like to—" you slowly turn to show him your ass and give him a playful wiggle, looking over your shoulder to finish with, "— _unwrap_ me, Sam?"

 

"God yes," he husks, "get over here." It wasn't so much a suggestion as it was a command; one you obediently followed. Your heels click against the hardwood flooring under your feet as you walked, your pace slow and precise as you use your body's movement to rile Sam up enough that once he got his hands on you, there would be no more playing around.

 

And _fuck_ , once his big hands got a hold of your hips when you were finally in their vicinity, he wastes no time in reaching around to squeeze your satin-clad behind. You grabbed his shoulders and gasp, moving your hands into his hair as he presses his nose into the flesh of your belly, his hot tongue sliding along the skin just above where your garter belt lay. You barely have enough time to steady yourself before Sam sweeps you off your feet to lay you down across the bed, his large form hovering over yours as he buries his face between your breasts to breathe in your scent. You giggle at the feeling of it, humming as you let you head fall back to enjoy your husband's presence.

 

"You look fucking phenomenal," he murmurs against the dip of your throat, his tongue lapping at it in the most intoxicating way. You breathe a shaky sigh when he wraps his hands around your wrists to bring your arms up and pin them to the mattress dominantly, his powerful hips slotting between your thighs so he can drag his denim-clad cock against you teasingly. "Such a good gift," he whispers into your ear, "such a good, _good_ gift."

 

"Kiss me," you whimper, rolling your hips up against his to silently beg. Sam doesn't deny your plea or make you _actually_ beg for it, just brings his head up so his lips can claim yours greedily. He groans into your mouth once you part your lips, using your tongue to tease his own into a heated battle for dominance—which is ridiculous because Sam always wins that fight without even _really_ having to try.

 

When the need to effectively fill your lungs with oxygen beats out the need you have for each other, Sam pulls back panting, his glittering hazel orbs meeting yours as he bears his teeth in a half-smile. His hands don't move to grope you, his steady gaze just staying on yours until you chuckle breathlessly and whisper "what?"

 

"I was just—" he laughs then, making your eyebrows scrunch up as you try not to be annoyed with the fact that he's _ruining_ the sexiness of the moment. "I'm sorry—" he laughs again and quickly adds, "It's not you, baby, I _promise_. I was just thinking about the first we had sex."

 

"What about it?" You can't help but smile now, because you know all too well what he’s referring to.

 

"Do you remember the morning after?" He asks, running the pad of his thumb down your cheek as he grins stupidly.

 

You just nod and relax back against the bed, letting out a laugh of your own as you recall the memory from a few years back:

 

 

 

> _The pounding headache that's kicking against the front of your skull stands as a great reminder that you should never, ever drink another drop of alcohol again in your life. The night before had been filled with Dean shoving shots in your face and toasting you on the kick-ass way you had killed your first werewolf—even though you'd been a hunter since your early teens, you'd never gotten the chance to off a werewolf…until Dean and Sam showed up asking for your help on a case that involved one. And it was you who had shot a silver bullet through its heart while the brothers scramble for their guns that were lying out of their reach, a result of the creature attacking them from behind._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Here, here!" You remember Dean shouting as the three of you down more top shelf whiskey and laughed rambunctiously._
> 
>  
> 
> _Soon every single one of the memories from the night before come flooding back to you in flash of tanned, taunt skin, lengths of delicious, powerful muscle, and a perfect set of rosy, kiss-swollen lips parted and moaning your name. Your eyes blear as the morning sun coming in from the motel window makes your head feel like it's about to explode. It's only then you register the shower in the bathroom going, evidence enough that you had in fact **fucked** Sam Goddamn Winchester last night. _
> 
>  
> 
> _You sit up in the bed slowly, kicking off the cover to expose your fully bare-ass naked body. You groan as you climb over the edge, standing to your feet and scrambling for your robe that's laid over the back of a chair. Aspirin and a cold glass of water can't come soon enough, sliding down your scratchy throat as a rush of impending relief washes over you. You even swish a mouthful of minty mouthwash to rid it of that disgusting alcohol plus morning breath taste. Next, you examine yourself in the dirty mirror above the dresser of the room, seeing numerous purple and red spots covering the length of your neck to act as even more evidence of your nighttime actions. "Jesus," you whisper, shaking your head and pulling your hair up into a messy ponytail._
> 
>  
> 
> _When the bathroom door slowly opens, a fully clothed and clean Sam steps out cautiously—unknown to the fact that you're already awake. "So, you planned on sneaking out before I woke up?" You chuckle, leaning back on the dresser and crossing your arms as he stares at you in shock._
> 
>  
> 
> _"I was just—I didn't—I didn't want to make things any more awkward than they…needed to be," he finally gets himself together, accepting the fact that he'd been caught doing the walk of shame._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Sooo," you drone on as you narrow your eyes at him, "sneaking out and more than likely pretending that **nothing** happened between us is gonna make this whole thing less… **awkward**?"_
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam sways on the heels of his socked feet with his hands shoved into the pockets of his day-two jeans, letting out a sigh before meeting your gaze to say, "I was hoping."_
> 
>  
> 
> _You just snort out a laugh and pad your way over to him, pulling the top of your robe down to expose your hickey covered neck and just the tops of your breasts where more marks lay. "And how exactly am I supposed to explain **these** if you do that, huh?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow and pursing your lips in question._
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam's eyes roam over the places where his mouth had purpled your skin, where his lips had sucked the marks onto your flesh with such greed and hunger. He swears he can still hear the way you gasped and pleaded for more if he thought hard enough about it. "I could ask you the same question," he replies, pulling the collar of his plaid button up away from neck to reveal matching marks. " **Wait** ," he says when you roll your eyes, pulling up the shirt enough to reveal his toned stomach and hips, covered in a generous amount of damage from **your** mouth._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Holy **shit**!" You gasp, eyes wide and mouth hung open in surprise. "I don't remember doing all **that**!"_
> 
>  
> 
> _"Well, I don't remember doing that much damage to you either," Sam snorts, pulling his shirt back down to cover himself. Silence takes over then, both of you just staring at each other then down at the floor then back at each other again and so on until Sam finally says, "It was fun though."_
> 
>  
> 
> _You bite your bottom lip when you feel your stomach do a full on tumble routine. "Yeah?" You ask, swaying on your feet stupidly and smiling at him. "Just how **fun** would you say?" _
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam chuckles and stares down at the floor, his cheek and the tips of his ears tinging pink. "I would say it was number one in my top five, if I'm being honest."_
> 
>  
> 
> _"Jeez," you chuckle, "You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Sam." You close the gap between the two of you, barely pressing yourself up against him as you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, smirking and running a hand up his arm. "I wouldn't mind a little replay," you say with a shrug, and nearly squeal when Sam picks up bridal style, making long strides towards the bed to lay you across it. And somewhere in the time of Sam crawling over your body to lean into your mouth for a kiss, and you pulling yourself up to meet his lips with a little **too** much speed, a loud, sharp **thunk!** of your foreheads colliding fills the room._
> 
>  
> 
> _"Ow **fuck**!" " **Shit**!"_
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam groans loudly, falling down beside you and gripping the top of his head in his hands while you do the same, tears in your eyes from the unexpected agony of it. "God **damm** it!" You gasp, "that hurt like a son of a **bitch**!" Sam agrees with a throaty grunt, breathing in and out through his nose to try and ease the throbbing pain radiating through his head. "And we're sober this time for Christ's sake!" You add, wincing when you gently run a few fingertips over the center of your forehead. The headache you'd killed with aspirin when you woke up is back full force and raging much harder than before. _
> 
>  
> 
> _Minutes later, when the initial shock of the incident subsides and your head no longer feels like it's been split in half, you and Sam are laughing like **maniacs** , replaying the collision with your hands and recreating the sound of your heads meeting and dying of uncontrollable laughter. _

 

"What a _wonderful_ beginning to a _beautiful_ relationship," you chuckle, running a hand through Sam's hair and adding, "But I still can't believe you were just going to walk out and pretend like we hadn’t had hot monkey sex the night before."

 

"Well, there was no denying it after I had a giant _knot_ on my forehead, now _was_ there?" Sam laughs, "Dean looked so confused when he saw us!"

 

"Yeah well, _that_ plus all the bruises—he must have thought that we went a couple rounds in a boxing ring together," you snort, "we must have looked like a complete mess."

 

Sam looks at you with amused eyes, his big grin shrinking into a half smile as he watches the way your eyes dance with humor and the way your face is lit up with happiness. "You look so beautiful when you're happy," he comments, tucking a stray hair behind your ear and running his index finger down your rose blushed cheek lovingly. "I want to make you happy all the time."

 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, fighting back a foolish smile and a girlish giggle. "You've already made me the happiest girl in the world, Sam," you tell him in a low voice, your heart racing in your chest and your stomach filling to the brim with big-winged butterflies. "The moment I saw that _dopey_ smile and those handsome eyes of yours, I was a goner," you state, running a finger down the bridge of his nose and over the curve of his Cupid's bow. When said dopey smile pulls on his mouth, you let out a small chuckle and give his stretched lips a quick kiss.

 

"I wanna do something we've never done before," he tells you, trailing a hand down your neck and over your shoulder toward the length of your arm with a gentle caress.

 

"What's that?" You ask, pulling his hand back up to your face and skimming your lips over all the fingertips affectionately.

 

"We're so used to having rough, _crazy_ sex," he says with a smirk, "which I love, don't get me wrong but—" he sighs through his smile before adding, "I want to go slow this time, I wanna make _love_ to you, baby." His eyes are filled with such devotion and passion that it dearly kills you dead right there, his gaze one that you're so used to seeing but it's somehow different this time. "Whatta ya say?"

 

"I say," you stop to press your mouth against his for a short warm kiss before adding, "Make love your _wife_ , Sam."

 

He responds with a smile and a nod, pulling your lips back to his and making it slow and easy, his tongue only coming into play to gently coax your lips open enough so he can slide it against yours sluggishly. It's a kiss you've shared before but it doesn't turn into one filled with rough dominance or toothy nibbles like it usually would—it’s one that lasts and makes your body go languid under Sam's as he makes love to you with just his kiss. 

 

When he trails a light, relaxed hand down your bare side, you whimper into his mouth, loving the warmth that radiates from the caress. You find your strength and gently push the already unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders, whining when Sam pulls away from you long enough to completely rid himself of the garment, along with his dark denim jeans. Then he's back on you, running his big hands down your stocking-clad thighs and kissing your neck with tame, gentle lips. He's being so tender, treating your body like it's almost too delicate to touch, and it's turning you on in a way you've never been turned on before—a new, throbbing way that makes your whole body tremble and pebble with goosebumps. The relaxed manner of his motions and the slowness of his puffy lips on your heated skin are making tiny, breathy moans leave your lips, his name rolling off your tongue, drenched in want and in desire.

 

Sam trails his mouth down the valley between your breasts, along the middle of your torso until his lips are barely skimming over the thin waistband of your panties. Your stomach dips and ripples as you breath in and out in anticipation, his hot tongue rolling around your navel before he cheekily dips it in, trailing it down until it's running along the seam of the satin that's right against your sodden slit. "Sam… _Please_ ," you gasp, carding your fingers through his hair and letting your head fall back. Sam gives in to your plea, slowly and almost teasingly pulling down your panties, working them down your thighs and maneuvering them around your heels until they're completely off. 

 

You bring your head back up to watch him settle between your legs on his stomach, his hands pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thighs to spread you open for him. You curse under your breath as you examine the way the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and upper back flex and shift as he gets comfortable, his eyes dark with lust and hunger-filled as they meet yours. You sigh as he leans into to nuzzle his nose into the soft patch of curls right above your clit, his mouth going slack so it falls open and his tongue rolls at to barely lick at the swelling bundle of nerves. Your thighs start to tremble and you almost find it embarrassing just how much your body responds to one, measly little lap of Sam's strong, warm tongue— _almost_. And when he finally starts to give your clit firm, tongue-flat lickings, you're literally seconds from keeling over, your back arching like a cat and your hands scrambling to fist at the bed covers. 

 

" _Oh_!" You gasp, rocking your hips onto his tongue, causing him to moan and his tongue to vibrate against you with the vibrato of it. He doesn't force your hips down like he normally would, he just wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you close so he doesn't lose his traction. You feel his tongue slide down through your slick folds to lap up the slickness that's leaking out of you, groaning into you with appreciation as your heady flavor covers his wiggling tongue. When he slides it into you and literally _fucks_ you with the wet muscle, you're taken by surprise and can't help but cry out his name, your chest heaving as the pleasure builds to a slow burn. It's Sam thumbing your clit slowly and thrusting his tongue quickly that sends you hurtling over the edge, your head falling back and your open mouth spilling obscenities and praises for Sam. He intertwines your hands tightly, the cool metal of his wedding band burning against your warm fingers as his tongue gentle laps at your clit to see you through your release, his eyes closed as he lets the way you spasm in his grasp go straight to his hardening cock.

 

You're still shaking with aftershocks when Sam climbs back over top your body, a wide grin on his handsome face when he sees how your cheeks are glowing and your lips are reddened from your teeth's assault on them. He listens to your attempt to steady your breathing as he eases the thin, sheer cups of your bra down to reveal your peaked nipples, at attention and practically begging for affection. Your slack body goes rigid when Sam skims his lips over one of the sensitive buds, a whimper leaving your throat as you take hold of his strong upper arms, your fingers digging into the thickly corded muscles under Sam's warm skin. You can feel them stretch and bunch as he moves to gently cup your soft breasts in his callused hands, pushing them together as he kitten-licks each nipple with the very tip of his pointed tongue. He doesn't ravage your chest like normal, he doesn't teethe at your tender flesh nor does he suck marks into your sensitive skin. His eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue against a nipple and your body grows hot, your mouth releasing gasps of air as you vibrate under him. 

 

Then suddenly, you're no longer covered in warmth and Sam's body is no longer looming over yours. Instead, he's up on his knees, sitting back on his haunches as he grabs one of your ankles. He pulls your leg up, running his hand down the length of it, over the material of the smooth stocking covering it. You smile from your laying position, flexing your foot when he moves his hand back up to remove the black pump you were wearing just for him. "We'll save these for another time," he says, letting the shoe hang on his index finger before he lets it fall to the floor next to the bed. He repeats his motions with your other shoe, smirking as he runs his lips down the arch of one of your stocking-clad feet, causing you to gasp-slash-giggle at the feeling of his hot breath tickling your skin. It's a strange sensation but it's slightly _exhilarating_.

 

"Got a foot fetish now?" You joke with him, biting your bottom lip as he does the same to the other foot. "Because I don't know how okay I am with that."

 

"No, it's just—“ he chuckles, draping your feet over his shoulders so he can run his warm hands up your legs and back down again. "These stockings look so damn _sexy_ on you," he finally says, his blunt fingernails running over the sheer material, goosebumps forming on your skin is response. 

 

"Mmm you keep talking like that and this whole making _luuuhve_ thing is gonna be hard for me," you laugh lightheartedly, gasping in surprise when Sam grabs you by the front of the thighs to pull you close to him, his cock hard and heavy through his worn boxers against your still throbbing core.

 

"It's _already_ hard for me," he husks, "You don't know how _bad_ I want to tear these stocking to shreds with my fingers while I fuck you _hard and rough_." His trails his hands over your knees gently, adding "But I won't do that because I want to go _slow_ , really work you up to another orgasm and watch you come undone from my slow, _lazy_ thrusting." He smirks devilishly as he says, "Plus, I like these damn things too much to just ruin them like that… _yet_."

 

You're panting now, back arching as a way of saying _yes!_ After seeing that, it only takes Sam a few seconds to push his boxers down in a clumsy manner and kick them away even clumsier way. You sigh in relief as he settles between your thighs after he's spread them with a strong grip on your knees, his hips flush against yours as he kisses you feverishly, frantic excitement behind his lips as they slide against your just as excited ones. "Are you _ready_ , wife?" He questions, shoving a hand between the two of you to position his thick, throbbing cock.

 

" _Yes_ , husband," you breathe, running your hands up his neck to fist the hair at the nape of it. You mewl almost pathetically when he starts pushing in a tantalizingly sluggish way, no rush or quickness in sight for miles. After what seems like a century, Sam _finally_ bottoms out, placing his hands flat on the bed on either side of your chest to hold himself up. You watch with dazed eyes as he breathes in deeply as way to keep himself controlled, his eyelids fluttering and his eyebrows scrunched up at the way you feel around him and how wet you are for him. It's then you wonder _just_ how long he'll be able to stay true to his word, how long it'll take for him to snap and just pound into you with wild vigor. But, then you remember that Sam's _always_ been one to challenge himself, control himself beautifully when it's called for—and _shit_ , he looks so goddamn sexy doing it.

 

You gasp when he finally pulls out even more sluggish than he had entered, every inch of him felt by your wet, inner walls as he exits and slowly pushes back in with a long throaty groan leaving his parted lips. He soon finds a rhythm that has you moaning _oh my god's_ and _holy shit's_ intermittently, your hands shaking as they fist into his soft hair and legs wrapping high up on his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back as his languidly moves against you—slow, precise, and relaxed. You're feeling Sam in a whole new way; the way his cock drags against your weeping cunt and how his hips lightly press against the back your thighs every time he bottoms out, rather than slapping loudly like you're used to. It's all too intoxicating and has you panting and moaning like a bitch in heat in the middle of summertime.

 

" _Fuck_ , this feels so good," Sam grunts, pushing himself as deep into you as he can, his forehead screwed up in pleasure as his eyes meet your hazy ones. "Tell me how it feels for you, baby," he demands huskily, rolling his hips in a circle before he dives back into you.

 

"It...It feels... _Oh my god_..."

 

Sam chuckles at this, biting his bottom lip and sighing in victory, his hips not relenting in their slow, almost _torturous_ pace no matter how bad he wants to fuck you into a screaming mess—because he has to admit that taking you this way feels so goddamn _great_.

 

He leans forward to trial his lips along the length of your jaw, stopping to kiss at your chin right under your lips before traveling down the other side. He makes a daring move, pulling himself out of you and listening too you immediately whine in protest and reach for him, but he's quick with his actions, maneuvering you with purposeful hands so you're on your left side with himself pressed right behind you in a spooning position. You get with the program and throw the leg that's on top up and back over his so you're spread open for him to push himself back inside you, a strong hand on your hip to hold you steady.

 

Sam gets at you in a better angle in this position, at a deeper and slightly more _intense_ angle that has you moaning and gasping his name like a prayer you've recited a hundred times before. He's propped up on his left elbow so he can still see your face, his mouth hung open panting as he thrusts inside just a _smidgen_ faster than before, his right foot flat on the bed so he has better leverage for his moving hips. He uses the hand that was on your hip to pull your hair away from your neck, his mouth on it in seconds to kiss and lick lavishly, your moans filling his ears and making him groan into your skin. "So good, so good, baby," you keep saying, the way you curve your back away from his chest causing his cock to perfectly slide across that spot inside that has you seeing sparks of white in your vision.

 

"I can _feel_ how close you are," Sam whispers in your ear, his voice husky and sounding completely _wrecked_ as he trails a hand down your naked side and across your lower belly until it's hidden between your thighs, two skilled fingers circling your clit to get you there quicker. "Come for me, baby, wanna feel come as I fuck you _slow_ and easy," he gasps, practically _begging_ for your release.

 

You can feel it coming, a string in your groin being pulled and stretched tight and threatening to snap from Sam's ministrations; can smell the mixed scent of you and Sam in the air; can hear the wet squelch of Sam pulling out then pushing back into you, as well as the heavenly sound of Sam grunting and groaning as he pushes himself closer to the edge as well. It's all too addicting and almost too _much_ , the idea that it's _Sam_ , your new husband, giving you this kind of pleasure and that it will only ever be _him_ , just you and Sam until the end.

 

"Oh fuck!" You gasp, gripping the sheets with your left hand until your knuckles whiten and tossing the other back to fist the hair at the back of Sam's head as he noses at your cheek, his breathing heavy and hot against the skin of it. The dam breaks and warmth floods your entire body, growing from the center and traveling to the tips of your fingers and the balls of your feet, unconscious and uncontrolled sounds leaving your mouth in throaty cries. It's intense and forceful, Sam's arm having to circle around your waist to keep you from sliding away, his hips growing a little bit more harsh out of instinct as he barks out his own moans of pleasure, his spine tingling with his impending orgasm as your inner walls tighten and ripple around his throbbing cock. 

 

"That's it, baby, that's it," he fucking _whimpers_ in your ear, mere moments before he goes rigid with release, his mouth open and panting against the skin under your ear as he rolls his hips through it, his hot load filling you up and dribbling down your thighs as he bucks sloppily until he finally slows to a shaky stop. You go slack against him, humming and lazily rolling your ass back against him, causing his hand to grip your hip harshly to stop you and his mouth the suck in a harsh intake of air through gritted teeth because he's grown so sensitive inside you, the motion making his hips jerk uncontrollably as he grunts harshly. 

 

You whine momentarily as he slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, the wet gush of your mixed wetness making your cheeks tinge pink when it meets your ears. You don't have the strength to move when you hear the bed creak from Sam getting up off of it and riffling through what you guess is his duffle, his presence back up behind you just moments later. You jerk out of instinct when you feel something cold and damp between your slick thighs, calming once Sam kisses your lips tenderly and smiles, explaining that it's just a wipe to clean up the mess he's made of you. You sigh as you lazily roll over onto your back, giving him a better angle. You smile as you watch the concentration on his face and feel the gentleness of his hand on your dirtied skin, wiping you up and making you clean again.

 

You sigh contently as he unfastens the clasps of the garter belt where they're holding up your stockings, his nimble fingers sliding them down and off your legs. You shiver as he runs his fingertips over the skin of your ankles and all the way up to your waist, his index fingers hooking into the belt and carefully pulling it down, helping you rise your tired hips so he can get it passed your ass. You take off your own bra, not wanting to feel completely helpless, although you know Sam wouldn't have minded doing it for you. You watch with sleepy eyes as he grabs another wipe to take care of himself, not caring for detail like he had for you, just a simple swipe motion to clean off his now fully soft cock.

 

"I love you," you say, your voice small and filled with exhaustion, your eyes fluttering shut as you blindly reach for him.

 

"I love you more," you hear him reply, a smile evident in his tone. "I'm gonna go salt all the windows and doors and I'll be right back," he tells you, leaning over your sleepy form to kiss your lips gently.

 

"Okay, just hurry back," you request as you open your eyes to see him and smile lazily, " _Husband_."


End file.
